I should have grabbed your
hand.
Pulled you close to me
and lied.
Lied that I don't like blonds or
that one girl, with the blond
hair.
How romantic right?
Me staring into your eyes and
you're staring back.
But then you'll know the truth.
That I'm just a lost puppy
Looking for a home,
a place to stay,
a girl to listen
and some wine to drink.

But you can't know this
and you never will.
Instead you'll know half of it,
that I do like your hair and I think
about it all the time.
Brown with little blonde stripes,
I also like the way you talk, especially when you're drunk
without a care in the world.

****, now I sound like a *****.

My heart is going to stop
beating
any moment now.
As I try to keep
up
with the current of life.
Reading books
and poetry,
dancing at clubs,
smoking cigs
at parties,
taking shots until
I'm rolling on your
carpet.
You see I'm living
a lifestyle that bound to
catch up with me.

My heart beats
and time passes by
while I lie down on my
bed and stair at the ceiling.
Thinking of the
time I spent with you,
talking to you about
**** I didn't know
anything
about.
Yet you still listened.

My heart continues to
beat for no
other reason but
to keep me alive.
And I keep living
because I will not go
out quietly, I'll rage on
maybe cause
Dylan Thomas told me
to.
But his heart has stopped
now
and mine will one
day.

you start to notice the
changes you go through.
How things come
in seasons
both the good and
the Bad.
So when you said
you'll never
talk to me again,
share you secretes
with me again,
or even love me again.

I was okay.
Because things come and
they go,
like the wave of the ocean.

You don't belong
to me and I don't
belong to you.
You wish I did
and I wish you did
but
that's all over now.
It's time to ride
the next wave.

My therapist
told me I should
Be more positive
and
Stop focusing on the
Negative.

So I talked to some
Old friends and reminisced.  
Reminisced on how
we cheated in class,
Talked to girls
And did drugs
just to past time.

Maybe those we're better days.
Days when we had
some form of
Innocence.

Now I turn on the
News and all
I see is Isis, war, ****,
Mass murders and racist faces.
People telling me lies and
Convincing me on
what to believe.

Who knows, maybe trump secretly
Loves black people and Mexicans.

So much for
Positivity,
I should ask that
Therapist for my
Sixty dollars back.

We move to an unheard
Rhythm.
I chase you through forgotten
Memories.
You find me,
Alone and confused.
Wasted of cheap liquor,
Trying to drown my thoughts,
Trying to **** the pain,
And remember your face
As you smiled to me and said
Everything will be alright.

Surrounded by friends
A welcoming hug lingers
Filled with what ifs
Uncomfortable for some
Warmly welcomed by others
Conversations fueled by
Wine, beer, and martinis
The comfort of acceptance
Non-judgmental reception
Imagining what’s not said
Some thoughts you can read
Others arise unbidden tongue-tied
Accidental truth shared
Sheltered by laughter
We retell our practiced stories
Not noticing the kind
I’ve-heard-it-before looks
Oh to hear the late night summaries
The evenings score card
We sway from oh so silly to
Pugnacious
We may have crossed lines
We never saw and wouldn’t have cared
If we did

little dark girl with
kind eyes
when it comes time to
use the knife
I won't flinch and
i won't blame
you,
as I drive along the shore alone
as the palms wave,
the ugly heavy palms,
as the living does not arrive
as the dead do not leave,
i won't blame you,
instead
i will remember the kisses
our lips raw with love
and how you gave me
everything you had
and how I
offered you what was left of
me,
and I will remember your small room
the feel of you
the light in the window
your records
your books
our morning coffee
our noons our nights
our bodies spilled together
sleeping
the tiny flowing currents
immediate and forever
your leg my leg
your arm my arm
your smile and the warmth
of you
who made me laugh
again.
little dark girl with kind eyes
you have no
knife. the knife is
mine and i won't use it
yet.